Bad News
by padfoot104
Summary: The summer holidays are supposed to be a time for relaxing, but for four Hogwarts students and previous students, relaxation does not seem to come into the equation. WARNING: May contain spoilers from Book Six as well as more adult topics.
1. Bad News

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters apart from Ophelia Minestria…they all (sadly) are the amazing creations of J.K. Rowling. Pity.**

**Anyway, please read and review this…bearing in mind that I haven't written anything for over a year now, so it's going to take some time to get back into the habit! So, tell me what you think, and constructive criticism is welcome!**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter One – Bad News

It was the light that had first alerted the boy to the fact that there was something wrong. Nobody could have broken in to the house; it was too well protected for that, but at three o'clock in the morning, it was strange that someone was still awake. The family, as a rule, were in bed at least by one o'clock, and even if they were not, the house was always cast into darkness at that time, and it was forbidden for any of them to light a candle or anything of the sort. Those 'dark hours' were the time of rituals for others; it would not do to disturb those performing Dark Magic, for it was vital for those who were pure blooded to live on, and to try to prevent the world from becoming tainted even more by any new witches or wizards who might have been born to muggles if the spells had not been in place. The rules were clear, and the boy and his family followed them completely – the boy doubted whether a light would even have been allowed on in case of sickness.

He had spotted the flickering light through the crack that wound its way down his door; something which he had been meaning to mend but had not been bothered for years; the light of a candle or something similar.

He had tried to remain in bed, tried to ignore the light but, eventually, the temptation had been overpowering and it was as if he had been forced to find out what exactly was going on. He slipped out of bed and moving quietly, trying to avoid the cracks on the floor, made his way over to his door which he opened without a sound.

The light was coming from his father's study, somewhere which he did not often venture into, and seemed to be more than one candle - perhaps a few. The boy's pace quickened; he was not bothering to be silent any more. He had only one objective - to find out what the hell was going on inside the room.

He wrenched over the door and, for a moment, the bright light blinded him so he could not see what had happened, but the coloured blotches in front of his eyes quickly cleared. He wished almost at once that they had not; and he turned quickly away from the scene and stumbled away from the door, back towards his room, as if in a dream. He found himself running down the dark hallway, his heart pounding in his ears and a sick sensation in his stomach, trying to block out the picture which refused to exit his mind.

He made it to his bathroom just in time, and, in the pauses between the time that his stomach emptied itself, he shook his head violently to try and push away the scene that had sickened him so.

He finally gave himself up to sleep sometime around five in the morning, slumped in the bathroom, but his dreams were nightmares and he could not shake the discovery from his mind.

Hermione Granger turned the volume up furiously on her iPod, thankful yet again for muggle technology, and Phantom Planet's _California_ blared through her headphones, blocking out the sound of her parents' arguing. It was ten o'clock in the morning, and they were at it already, yelling at each other and forgetting the prescence of their teenage daughter who sat at the table munching her morning toast and reading the news from the wizarding world.

They had been like this for ages, and Hermione didn't know exactly what had sparked it off. She had noticed the difference the first night she had been home from Hogwarts at the beginning of the holidays – a kind of tension between the two of them that she couldn't quite place, as if they were hiding something from her. She had noticed that they didn't spend any time together throughout the next week, and, the first Sunday after she had returned, they had begun to argue, which Hermione had suspected had been happening for an awful long time.

She turned a page of _The Daily Prophet _irritably, ripping it slightly in anger. She always started at the back of the newspaper, saving the headlines until last, a habit that she'd picked up from her father. She read the adverts first, then the smaller articles, reading the most interesting news after all of the rest.

It was ten minutes later when she finally turned the page backwards to the front page. A huge black-and-white photograph of Lucius Malfoy met her eyes, and she snarled unconsciously. Her eyes skimmed down the article, her brain not bothering to take any of it in. Malfoy had been in the newspapers a lot lately, promoting his new money-making ideas which, Hermione expected, had probably succeeded in their goal. Honestly, the wizarding world was so gullible – she couldn't believe how stupid some of them were.

She focused on a couple of words and blanched as they penetrated her mind, and her eyes flicked once again to the top of the article. She didn't hear her parents stop arguing, didn't see them both turn to look at her guiltily, she was so immersed, and she didn't skip a word until the end of the article, when she folded the paper, stuffed the rest of the toast in her mouth and, without even looking at her parents, left the kitchen.

"…AND STAY OUT!"

Fred and George Weasley looked uncertainly at each other as the door of their sister's room slammed in their faces. They had come back to The Burrow for a couple of weeks, leaving the joke shop in the care of a couple of assistants while they visited their family, and were already wishing that the time was up. Their mother had been edgy and they had hardly seen their father. Bill and Charlie had cancelled their visit due to 'unforeseen circumstances' and Percy had still not returned to the family. Ron hadn't been around much all summer – he was staying with Harry at his new home, Grimmauld Place, supervised by Lupin and Tonks, and Ginny had been moody and withdrawn, not even stopping to greet them properly.

"Nice welcome we've had," Fred muttered sullenly, and his twin nodded gravely as they both made their way upstairs to their old bedroom which, they were relieved to see, had not been 'tidied' again by their mother. They had had to speak to her about that a number of times, until she had finally agreed in exasperation that she would leave the tidying to them.

"At least we don't have long left..." George put in.

At this, Fred sighed, and added, "We've still got a week, you know."

"A week's not long-"

"It is when you're here, Comrade."

The twins had taken to calling each other 'Comrade' which had irritated his family no end and had 'weirded' a few of their friends out. It had all started when they'd met Ophelia Minestria, their new assistant, who had introduced them to some very good muggle books, their favourite being '1984' by George Orwell, which George had picked out just for the author's name.

Fred sank back on his bed and George sat at one of the chairs by their desk, and put his head in his hands.

"_This_," he commented, "Is not the way I had hoped to spend this holiday, Comrade."

"No, this is wonderful, my friend," Fred said sarcastically, sitting up and rolling his eyes at his brother. "Best time I've ever spent here." He paused. "But seriously, even the dinners are bad…the whole world seems to be going mental – "

"- Maybe just this house," George reasoned, and Fred nodded glumly.

"Whatever it is, we have to get out of here before I go mad!"

George flicked his wand lazily and the twins' belongings zoomed around their room and placed themselves neatly in the open suitcase which was lying on the floor.

"Just say the word, Comrade," he sighed, "Just say the word and we'll leave."


	2. Old Life, New Life

**Disclaimer: I don't own anyone in this story at all, apart from Ophelia, the redhead. Wh00t! Go redheads! **

**-**

**Tashy – Thankyou for the review, my dear! Love the e-mail and glad you like the style…because I don't think I'll be changing it any time soon! Enjoy this chapter!**

**-**

Chapter Two- Old Life, New Life

"It's a pity, a real pity…"

"Do you think he'll wake up? I presume he saw the state his father was in…?"

"I'm sure he did – a boy doesn't look like that if he hasn't been shocked – he'd obviously fainted-"

"Indeed. I suppose he ran from his father's study...then to the bathroom…and sometime after that, he fainted and landed on his wrist."

"Have you called a Healer? They'll fix it in no time –"

"No, I don't think it's a good idea to mend it now. It's a clean break, it'll heal. He's not strong enough to take the magic…"

The boy in the bed opened his eyes blearily, not quite taking in the number of people standing around his bed before they all started speaking at once, asking him how he was, whether he felt too hot or cold and whether he was 'experiencing pain'. He replied with the rudest word he could think of; of course he was, he had a thumping headache and his wrist was stiff and appeared to be supported by a splint.

The man who was standing closest to him frowned slightly and looked sternly at the boy. "Now, now, Draco…there's no need for that type of language, is there?"

Draco snarled and tried to get out of bed to show the man exactly why he could not tell him what to do, but immediately the crowd surged forwards and placed their hands on him, pinning him back on the bed. Struggling was no use; they were simply a lot stronger than he was and there was nothing they could do about it. He was rather strong for someone who'd just turned seventeen and was due to turn eighteen some time next year, but the combined weight of the four men and seven women that Draco had managed to count was too much for him to move.

"Now Mr. Malfoy, we have some bad news for you, which should not come as too much of a shock, I hope, as you presumably saw last night what-"

"My father's dead," Draco replied in a monotone. "Yes, I saw. And no, I don't care, so you can stop fussing over me. If he wanted to kill himself, that was his own problem. I only wish he hadn't made such a mess…blood all over the floor…why, a simple curse would have done it. Stupid man."

"Draco darling, he was out of his mind. Your Daddy was not a sane man at the end of his life, surely you could see that?" The woman who had spoken kindly put her hand on his cheek.

Draco growled softly and coldly brushed the hand away. He did not want to think about last night, but it appeared that it was his duty to. He sighed impatiently before speaking. "I don't care what happened…he was hardly a good father anyway…and he was bound to go mad, wasn't he…what with the new business and all?" He stretched and lay back on his pillows with a smirk. "I suppose I've inherited everything? The Manor…his money?"

He watched as the people around him exchanged significant looks, before one of the women spoke. "Draco, your father…we fear he was not of sound mind, but he has left everything to your mother's sister, Bellatrix. In fact…" She swallowed nervously and took a step back from the bed, ready to bring her arms up to protect herself at the boy's reaction. "There was only one mention of you in the will, and that was to say that from now on you will be placed in the care of Severus Snape…a delightful gentleman who has just performed the task of killing the fool Albus Dumbledore and has successfully made himself a hero within our circles."

"Snape?" Malfoy spat, sitting bolt upright, his covers sliding off him. "Snape? That old git? I'd rather sleep with a Mandrake than live with him!"

"Mr Malfoy," the man who had spoken first replied carefully. "We have no control over the will. We expect you to be out of the house before sunset this evening, and we will set up a Portkey to Severus' residence."

"But- my mother…?"

"Your father also mentioned your mother only once, Mr Malfoy, commanding that she be…." He broke off, visibly sweating. "Giving the instruction for her to be – killed – under the first full moon after his death."

"Three guesses when the next full moon is," Draco muttered furiously.

"It is tonight, Mr Malfoy. Tonight they are going to destroy your mother."

"Hermione, darling, where are you going?"

Mr Granger had appeared at Hermione's bedroom doorway, looking concerned and rather uncomfortable, watching her pack a brand new suitcase with her school uniform, her favourite muggle clothes and a number of books and objects which he could only presume to be something to do with school.

"Out," was his daughter's short reply, "Not that it's any concern of yours."

Mr Granger had become more and more concerned about his daughter throughout the holidays. Hermione had not only been acting strangely – differently, somehow; she was more irritable and angry, and did not seem to speak to either of her parents properly at all. He assumed it was something to do with the arguments, but he had thought that she might understand – she was, after all, terribly mature for her age.

"Sweetheart," he answered anxiously, "Where abouts? You know that wizard- what's his name…Lord Somethingorother – you know he's on the loose. I'm not sure it's a good idea for a seventeen year-old girl to be wandering the streets alone…"

"It's Lord Voldemort, Dad, and I have my wand. I'm not going to be alone, I'll have Crookshanks, won't I?" Hermione continued to pack her bags, not looking up at her Father.

Mr Granger's voice shook as answered his daughter, 'though he tried not to let her know that he was crying silently. "Hermione, please…where are you going? I understand that it's been difficult for these last few weeks…it's been difficult for all of us…but we need to know where you're going. Are you off to stay with some school friends? Is there anyone we know who you'd like to stay with…or are you just heading off?"

Hermione grimaced and forced herself to look up at her Dad. What she was about to say would break his heart, but she was terribly angry at both of them. Her summer had been ruined, she had been thoroughly miserable and she was worried about what on earth was going to happen when the split finally came.

"Dad…I'm going to stay with the Weasleys. _They _don't argue. _They _are a _proper _family, with more than one child…they understand, they pay attention to me instead of getting lost in their own stupid little arguments. I'm going to stay with them, and I don't suppose I'm going to come back."

She hated to do this; knew that it was unfair on her family, and especially her father, to leave on this sour note, but if she left it any longer, she would back out of the whole plan. Slamming her suitcase shut, she took out her wand, took a quick look around her bedroom, grabbed the handles of her bags and focused on the point she wanted to go to. With a flick of her wand, she Disapparated without so much as a mumbled 'Goodbye'.

"I'm not sure I can be bothered to leave now…I mean, what if someone decides to kill themselves or something? I'd hate to miss it, George…"

Fred's twin brother grinned and muttered something about the fact that anything would be interesting after the boredom of the first week.

"The thing is, I feel guilty about not wanting to spend more time here, Comrade, but I'd rather get back to the store…and get back to Ophelia…I quite fancy trying my chances with her…she's rather pretty, wouldn't you say?"

George snorted. "If you marry her you'd be certain to have little redheaded children. It would be cute…a family of redheads…"

"You idiot, we already live in one," Fred commented, throwing his pillow at George's head as a look of realisation dawned on his brother's face. "Honestly, sometimes I think you're completely crazy, my friend. It hasn't been so bad, has it?"

George considered this for a moment, before grinning and returning the pillow. "Yeah, but think about this…mini Freds running around – now _that _would not be a pretty sight, would it?"

Fred laughed and was about to reply when there came a shriek from downstairs. The twins looked at each other, worried about what they would find, and instantly Disapparated, to appear in the kitchen a few seconds later.

"Mum?" George said anxiously, hurrying to her side. "Mum, what is it?"

Molly Weasley was standing in the middle of the kitchen clutching a piece of paper to her chest. George took it from her, recognising the writing as their elder brother Bill's.

Fred ran over, squinting to read the letter over his brother's shoulder. They finished almost at the same time, and both turned to their mother, looks of shock on their faces.

"They're having a _baby_?" they asked their mother in disbelief.

Fred snorted. "Bit soon for that isn't it?" he commented.

Their mother mumbled something, turned dead white, and fainted.


	3. A Redheaded Rant

**Disclaimer: I own naught…nobody…nothing…nil…nada…I only own the non-existent 'Naming Committee' and Fred and George's bad jokes.**

**A/n: Following the success of my last two chapters, I've decided to keep writing, so here is the next chapter! I've already written my fourth and have started my fifth, so I'll be typing 'em up and uploading them all tonight! Enjoy!**

Chapter Three - 'A Redheaded Rant'

"A _baby_…" Mrs Weasley muttered under her breath for the fourth time that minute, ringing her hands as she did so. "A _baby_…"

Fred rolled his eyes, laughing a little at his mother's strange behaviour, and George grinned at his mother, who had now collapsed into a chair at the old oak kitchen table, her face white, with an expression of pure disbelief on her face.

Fred caught George's eye and could tell that they were thinking the same thing – _She's had enough of them, you'd think she could cope by now? _

"Calm down, Mum, it's only a baby! **((A/n: Sorry, couldn't And it's nine months away from now at any rate," Fred tried to console his mother in vain. "I mean it's not as if they're going to arrive any second now with a screaming two-year-old, is it?"**

George shook his head and tapped the letter which was held in his clenched hand. "Not according to this. Fleur's only two months pregnant, mum…Bill said that they wanted to wait until they were sure…"

"Let me see that," Fred insisted, taking the letter from his twin. He scanned it through a couple of times before re-folding it, raising his eyebrows. "Merlin's Beard!" he exclaimed, "They want us to think of _names _for it, both boys' and girls' names! Who do they think we are…the _Naming Committee _or something?"

George snorted loudly. "Your joke just failed in two ways, Fred," he informed his brother. "One, there isn't any such thing as a 'Naming Committee', so the joke didn't work…and two, it wasn't even funny. Anyway, d'you think we'd better let Ginny know?"

Fred nodded, grinning, before opening his mouth and yelling as loudly as he could; "Ginevra Weasley! Please report to the kitchen immediately! Ginevra Wea-"

"-Okay, you can stop trying to deafen me, I'm here," came a cross voice and a small, slim figure with long, fire-red hair and a scowl appeared in the doorway. "And I've told you before, don't use that name – I hate it!"

"Aww…Gin…you know we're just teasing you," George replied with a short laugh. "Anyway, we thought you'd want to know that Bill and Fleur are having a baby!"

"Bit soon, isn't it?" Ginny replied with the air of one commenting on the weather. "You'd think they'd have heard of contraception-"

"-Ginny!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed, rather shocked at her daughter's calm but surprising reaction.

"What, Mum?" came the casual reply as Ginny helped herself to a couple of chocolate biscuits and a glass of ice-cold milk before seating herself opposite her mother at the table. "I was only stating the facts-"

"-She's right, you know," Fred interrupted, winking at his younger sister, who glared back menacingly.

George, who had noticed the look, sighed wearily. "My dear Ginny," he started, trying not to sound patronising – and failing dismally.

"My dear George," Ginny responded, in the same tone of voice, deliberately trying to imitate – and irritate – her brother.

This time when George spoke, there was a hint of amusement in his voice. "Okay, Gin, no need to be like that! I was just…I just wanted to know…why have you been so damned…strange…lately? You can't talk to us properly, you won't even look at us – what's going on?"

Ginny glowered angrily and tossed her hair back out of her face. "Fine," she retorted, "_Fine. _You want to know what's wrong? Well it's you. _You _are the ones who didn't even say hello properly when you came back – it was "Oh, hi Gin," and then you were off upstairs without another glance back – I didn't even get a hug or anything. And after that it was like, "Where's Ron? Charlie? Bill?" And you just kept going on and on and _on _about how they weren't there…and it was as if you didn't even notice or appreciate the fact that _I'm _here…but oh no, it doesn't matter, don't worry about little _Ginny._ I've had _no _support…I've lost-" She swallowed the name 'Harry', replacing it with 'Someone' before continuing, "And nobody's even _bothered _to ask if I want to talk about it or anything! So _that's _why I hate you," Ginny's cheeks were flushed and her cat-like green eyes flashed angrily. "So don't come to me acting all innocent, you low-down, horrible _gits_!"

And with that, Fred and George's younger sister slammed out of the kitchen, leaving the others sitting in a shocked silence at the table, too stunned for words.

**A/n:**

**Raisa: Well, sorry about that…hope this clears some of it up for you! The next chapter's with Hermione, and the one after that is, of course, the lovely Draco Malfoy! Sorry about the cliffhanger…but I enjoy being evil! Mwahahaha!**

**Amichanfan12345: Well…I always was evil…it was just spending the time with you that brought it to the surface! Thanks for reading…and STOP GOING ON ABOUT THE RAPED MANDRAKE! ((Okay, I admit it, I rock, don't I? He He He!)) **


	4. Hermione's Tale

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Happy?**

**A/n: Well, what can I say. I was desperate to write my next chapter up so I can keep going with Draco, so here you are…two chapters in one evening! Pretty impressive, huh?**

Chapter Four – 'Hermione's Tale'

Only a few seconds after Ginny had exited the room, there was a loud 'crack!' and Hermione Granger Apparated in the exact spot where the youngest member of the Weasley family had been standing. Seeing the hurt looks on the twins' faces, and Mrs Weasley's pale, shocked composure, she froze in her tracks, biting her lip fretfully.

"Is this – is this a bad time?" she asked hesitantly, mentally cursing herself for not thinking of sending an owl on ahead of time to check whether it was actually alright for her to stay at The Burrow for the rest of the summer – not that there was much left of it, anyway. "Oh, it is, isn't it?" she added fearfully. "I'm dreadfully sorry…if I'd known, I'd have-"

"-No, no, not at all!" Mrs Weasley had come to her senses and now she stood and rushed over to where Hermione was standing with motherly concern, fussing over the girl and taking her coat and bags from her. "What's happened? Is everything alright?" She motioned to Hermione to sit at the table and instructed the twins to take Hermione's bags up to Ginny's room, instructing them to set up a camp-bed in there.

A soon as they had gone, she turned to the girl who she looked upon rather as a second daughter, and spoke, kindly but firmly. "Now, Hermione, dear, you must tell me exactly what the problem is."

Hermione took one look at Mrs Weasley's kindly face and dissolved into tears, hiding her own face in her hands. Mrs Weasley was at her side at once, placing a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Now, now, Hermione, just tell me everything…""

In between sobs, Hermione told Molly Weasley all about her summer…how she had realised that something was wrong from the start…how her parents had tried to hide the fact that they weren't getting on but had participated in angry, whispered conversations late at night when they wrongly assumed that their daughter was fast asleep, not lying in the darkness listening to them bickering…how the arguments had become louder and louder until they had been fighting at all hours of the day, seemingly oblivious to their only daughter's distress…right up until Hermione had packed her bags and Disapparated in front of her father without warning.

Molly was silent throughout Hermione's account of her summer, and did not speak for a while afterwards, instead taking a good look at the young woman sitting before her.

Hermione had changed immensely over the past few years. Her hair was no longer bushy and out of control as it had been when the girl had first joined Hogwarts, but was sleek and shiny with a natural wave that went all the way through and even a few applied highlights. Of course, there were giveaway wisps of hair flying out of her pony-tail which showed that magic had played a large part in getting her hair to stay in place, but that made Hermione look more natural, somehow.

She had never been a plump girl, but now that she had lost her puppy-fat, she had gained a figure, and Mrs Weasley could see that she was slim and well-proportioned with a good, even tan and a figure that most girls would kill to obtain.

Hermione's teeth, of course, had been fixed by magic a couple of years back, and they certainly looked a lot better as a result – straighter and perhaps a little whiter than they had been.

Her eyes no longer showed the innocence of an eleven year-old, but had hardened, somehow, along with the contours of her face – they showed that she had been through – and seen others go through – an awful lot in a short space of time, but the look suited her and, with her high cheekbones and her new habit of applying a subtle layer of make-up before she left the house, her face could even be described as rather pretty.

Her manner, too, had changed – she no longer possessed the child-like eagerness that she had had through the first three years at Hogwarts, and her enthusiasm seemed to have dimmed a little, making her seem a lot more mature, _although, _Mrs Weasley reasoned fairly, _she has just been talking to me about her problems, not discussing her latest homework assignment. _

At last, Mrs Weasley turned to stare out of the window, and spoke, and it was with clear understanding. "Hermione, you may not believe me – or want to believe me – when I tell you that I understand completely…but when I was young, I was in much the same predicament. My parents split when I was only fourteen, and I was devastated. I only have one sister; there was no large family, and she's younger than I am, so I couldn't rely on her for support. Nobody ever seemed to understand that all I wanted was some peace and quiet, and a bit of love and attention now and again." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Hermione nodding and a few more tears spilling over her flushed cheeks. "And of course, that was the one thing that nobody could offer, along with just a little bit of understanding. So I'm not going to let you down as everyone let me down. You can stay here for as long as you like, just send an owl to your parents to tell them that you're alright, no doubt you gave your father quite a shock – and you can come to me whenever you need to. Ginny's upstairs as well…and I understand that she's been having a bit of a rough time, from her little speech just before you arrived…so you can talk to her, if you need anybody else to confide in."

Hermione nodded gratefully, smiling. "Thank you, Mrs Weasley," she replied, meaning it sincerely.

"No problem at all, Hermione, no problem at all."


End file.
